


Good Boy

by orphan_account



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, I just love making micah cry whenever possible ok, Subby Micah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:27:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22431847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Micah wants to be good, and he wants to be good for Arthur.
Relationships: Micah Bell/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 9
Kudos: 45





	Good Boy

**Author's Note:**

> More porn enjoy

“Sh, sh…” Arthur soothed, rubbing Micah’s back up and down, caring hands between the other’s shoulder blades. The outlaw had his arms wrapped around Arthur’s neck. Face mushed into his jaw, grinding helplessly on his thigh, the hardness there getting rough friction causing him to mewl. After a long day of being rough and threatening out on the open fields, having robbed yet a second train, he was desperate for attention. It’d been what felt like weeks since they’d last done anything like this, and he couldn’t stop wanting it. He’d been half-hard nearly the entire way to Saint Denis and back, constantly casting glances at the man before him that unfortunately went unnoticed, until now.

The outlaw in question slid his hand down his back, only to grip his ass and shift him closer, a whine leaving his throat. “It’s ok, I got’cha sweetheart.” It was always a tad difficult for Micah to get into this… routine… they had. It was hard at times to transition from the hardened outlaw into this role he filled, for the two of them. But he still loved it nonetheless. “Ah!” He yelped, when one of the man’s gloved hands dug into his hip, lifting him slightly and fully settling him on his crotch. Arthur laughed low, holding him so close his pudgy belly was pressed tight against the other’s flatter middle. 

“Cute.” He growled, running his hands all along the curve of his back, stopping just above his ass. Micah felt flushed from his ears to his shoulders at the praise. Feeling himself kick his legs slightly, seeing how the silver tips of his heeled boots were a good inch or two (or three, he refused to acknowledge his height) off the ground while he was seated in the man’s broad lap, he hoped no one heard him yell. Arthur laughed again, amused by the way the other bit his lip and looked near doe-eyed at his own boots, clearly flattered by the compliment but too proud to voice it. His head tilted down, and he could see a wet spot where the bulge in his pants was, an amused smile gracing his face.

“Now, boy…” He said, stroking the man through his pants, watching his face as his mouth parted to pant. “You’re makin’ a damn mess.” His thumb pressed into the clothed tip, making Micah bite his lip so hard he thought he’d bleed, stomach flaring pleasantly at the dirty talk. He tried to form words, a part of him wanting to make a snarky comeback, but all that left his throat was a needy whine, his breaths panting hot and heavy against Morgan’s scruffy jaw. Arthur hummed at the sound, pleased he could elicit such noises with only a touch or two. “Awful lucky I drew the tent, otherwise everyone outside could hear all the whinin’ yer doin’ right now, huh?” Arthur scolded, though it was an empty accusation. “You, sittin’ all pretty here in my lap, moanin’ and cryin’ like all the working girls in Valentine. Probably put em’ all to shame, with the way you mewl like a whore when all I do is talk.” Biting his lip, and hoping no more noises would slip their way out him, Micah nodded. He was always noisy, he couldn’t help it. It had been so long, so long since they had gotten a moment together, and he could barely contain himself- and out a whimper slipped, as Arthur thumbed his bottom lip, dipping the gloved finger in his mouth, holding his tongue down. Drool, hot and slick, pooled around the leather keeping his jaw open, the bulky appendage swiping across his taste buds, coating itself in spit. He didn’t even try to help the unabashed moan that left him, but was embarrassed by it nonetheless. Arthur laughed, amused by the slight reddening of Micah’s cheeks at the shameless sound.

“You really’a wantin’ it, ain’tcha?” Arthur purred, seeing how painfully stiff Bell was in his jeans, the wet spot slowly getting bigger. Micah shut his eyes, too preoccupied with the thumb still on his tongue, tempted to suck on it, but began grinding and rutting against his thigh again. “Poor boy… makin’ a mess, and I ain’t even done anything yet.” Micah let out more unintelligible noises, moans and grunts making their way out of his open mouth.

Arthur, slowly, dragged the pad of his thumb all along the length of the blonde’s eager tongue, eliciting a soft gag from his pliant partner. Pulling it out, a long, thin rope of drool glistened in the moonlight. Rubbing the spit between his fingers, he clicked his tongue, “Poor baby…” he drawled, immensely satisfied with the shudder that tore through the other, a whole new round of red coating his cheeks. Micah felt as if he was going to climax then and there, if Arthur continued with the teasing. A soft, strangled cry left him when he began to rub himself harder on the man’s thigh, spurs jingling in the closed-off tent, whimpers singing out of his chest. His stomach clenched again, when large hands gripped his hips, keeping him still and forcing a needy, high noise out of him. “Please.” he begged, feeling his orgasm so close, but beginning to taper off every second he was kept still. 

“Please, what?” Arthur pressed, wanting to hear that word that Micah so loved to yell and moan when they were like this. “Whaddya want, baby boy?” Precum began to make a permanent stain on his favorite pair of pants as he sat there and writhed, the special nickname something that always made him succumb. His face, his whole body, felt too warm, he was certain he must’ve been redder in the cheeks than he had in a long while. “Please Daddy, I need it!” he whined once again, drool on the corner of his lips, trying to wiggle his hips out of the steel grip, but to no avail.

Quick as he drew a gun, Arthur began to unzip the other’s jeans, sliding them off his legs and onto the grass below, wrapping his hand around the reddened, weeping cock. Swirling his thumb around the swollen head, he heard Micah cry, loud and shameless, and quietly hoped no one would peer into the tent. Oh, they all could hear the little blonde, but there wasn’t much he could do now. His other hand, coated with gun oil he’d pulled from his bedside table, delved down to his ass, pushing two gloved fingers into the tight little rim, and Bell arched his back. 

“Please!” Micah begged, wanting to cum more than anything as the bigger man worked and squeezed his cock, fingered him roughly, “Please, Daddy! I’m-” a gasp left him as he felt a third finger enter him, scissoring him apart, brushing just barely against the special spot deep inside. “I’m gonna-” his back bowed as he came, shooting white ropes across his lower belly. Breath heaving, and head slightly dizzy from the much needed relief, he felt the blush rise back up on his face. “I’m- I’m sorry Daddy, I-” muscular arms wrapped around his torso, hugging him and tucking him close, reassuring coos of praise making his mouth feel dry with embarrassment. “Sh, you did very good, my boy. My good boy.” Tears pricked at his vision, he didn’t want to cry. Fingers carefully ran through his freshly washed and soft hair, warm streaks spilling over his eyelids as he cried. They were brushed away, a now gloveless hand smearing the tears off his cheeks. “It’s okay sweetheart, you’re alright. You did so good today, I’m so proud of you Micah, my sweet boy.” A choked sob left the half-naked man, feeling like an immense pressure was both on and off his shoulders simultaneously. When the soft, quiet sobbing didn’t seem to slow, Arthur pulled the man up, laying him to where he could lie down and hold him on the bed. “Sh, sh…” he murmured, now holding the man close to chest, letting him hide his face in his neck. 

Rubbing his back yet again, mumbling all sorts of praises to his partner, the sobs finally began to dissipate into only sniffles. Micah rubbed at his pale blue eyes, now reddened and puffy from his newest bout of crying. ”I don’t like-” he let out a sleepy yawn, making a grin crack on Arthur’s face at such an adorable display. The tousled and soft hair, the look of sex fresh on his face, the drowsy look in his eyes. Cute. “I don’t like cryin’ so much, it-it don’t feel right” he whispered, some part of him still foolishly believing the entire camp hadn’t heard him moaning just a few minutes ago. Arthur only rubbed his back more, scooting him a little closer into his chest, tucking the blonde’s head underneath his beard. “I know, but it’ll make you feel better, alright? With how bottled up ya were, it’s perfectly healthy Micah.”

He hummed at that, a tad doubtful, but ultimately satisfied. Arthur stayed up, still massaging circles into his lower back, until he heard the telltale sound of soft snoring and mid-sleep mumbling. Kissing the crown of the blonde’s head, he himself finally allowed sleep to take him, the moon washing Clements Point in it’s milky glow.


End file.
